Glitching Gravity
Hunter is, he firmly insists, absolutely not a pussy, even if Crosshair insists otherwise. Just to be annoying.
Right now, Hunter thinks the next person to yowl is going out the airlock. And it probably won't even be his fault.
"Are you sure there's nothing we can do about the gravity?" Hunter grumbles, rubbing at his throbbing forehead.
"I hope not!" Wrecker calls from the ceiling, "This is amazing!"
"Speak for yourself," Crosshair grumbles, though he looks as gleeful as his twin. They are doomed. The twins are mutually gleeful about the whole thing.
Hunter really wishes he could be. The battle was a little rough, and they're already on their way to another. Which is annoying, but a part of war. Usually, he'd be fine with it, even if it means he'll be skipping sleep a few days in a row and will probably drop off into a crash soon, but right now, he just wants to sleep.
Which is impossible when he'll be floating if he tries to do so.
Hunter can't remember exactly when his head started throbbing, but it was somewhere in the battle. Too much noise, he thinks. Overstimulation. Usually gets better with a long nap, but the complete lack of a gravitational field is starting to mess with his head. Badly.
Hyperspace will do that a little bit as is, but here, blurring faster than light with various constant gravitation fields pulling them all over, and randomized electric currents drawing them in, Hunter has nothing to focus on while trying to keep his head on and blur the pain out. Which is to say, it's not getting worse, and every time he thinks of it – which is non-stop – it gets worse.
And he has a mission report to do, thank you, Wrecker, as his brother yowls again somewhere from the other side of the ship.
"You know, if the gravity suddenly flicked on, you would fall," Crosshair warns.
"But it won't!" Wrecker argues, "Cuz Tech needs to go outside the ship to fix it."
"Maybe we can eject Echo," Crosshair suggests dryly.
"I might be part metal, but that doesn't mean I can breathe in space," Echo replies, trying to sit back in his chair and floating off. He yanks himself back down and straps in.
Crosshair's just... hovering mid-air.
Wrecker's bouncing off the ceiling. And mostly just the walls. He's praying their brother won't find the ration stash anytime soon, or they'll be pulling things from every corner they don't belong. Or Tech's toolbox, though he thinks Tech has enough sanity not to open it.
Well, he's just being a bit cynical right now.
"I thought you didn't like heights, Wrecker," Hunter offers miserably in vain hopes of getting his brother to calm down. Except heights only matter when they're inconvenient. He honestly thought the reminder would make his little brother relax, but nope.
"I'm not scared of heights!" he argues, "I just got a problem with gravity."
"Those are the same thing, Wrecker," Tech points out.
Crosshair shrugs. "Yeah. Most of the time."
What does that mean? Wrecker is usually adorable, but today is one of those days he's decided to make himself life's greatest pain.
"Are you alright?" Tech asks. He looks like he wants to poke him, but doesn't, and Hunter's grateful for that, because he hates being touched when he's overstimulated. His brothers are always sensitive of it – when they notice. It's usually one of the twins who catch on first, most often Crosshair, but they're both... preoccupied right now. He's surprised it's Tech who first noticed, but still grateful.
"Migraine," Hunter mutters, "This gravity field is –" He grabs the datapad that tries to float away again, sets it on the dashboard, and then he floats away. Ugh.
"You should rest," Tech advises.
Hunter shakes his head. "Can't. I have to finish this report first." And Hunter really doesn't want to try floating to the back of the Marauder to lay down. He hates being weightless. It's floating in midair, unable to touch anything or feel anything or have his feet on solid ground. Basically, it's very, very annoying. He's glad the twins find it fun and all, but Hunter doesn't.
"Let me complete it for you," Tech requests. He states it more like an order, which is very deeply appreciated. Crosshair has slid from his seat and gone to join Wrecker in insanity while Hunter tries very hard to keep his own.
"You have your own research to do at the mission," Hunter argues, rubbing his throbbing temple, "You shouldn't have to do mine." He feels awful to make Tech do his work. It's just a simple report, and his head is throbbing, and the words and letters are blurring together in front of him. It's annoying. Hunter sighs again, trying to focus. Something's clanking. Everything is blurring. Yeah, okay, this isn't working. Maybe Tech is right after all.
"Hunter it would be far more embarrassing for all of us if you were to confuse a simple fact then to hand me the datapad," Tech states flatly. For him, yeah, when he remembers everything perfectly. Most people don't have a photographic memory, though.
"I can do it," he argues, but literally everything begs to differ.
Tech reaches out, gently pulling the datapad away. It drags Hunter along with him, and he makes an annoyed grumble, but lets himself float. Feeling gravity can be overwhelming, but it hurts even more not to feel the floating, fluxing currents pulsing from the core of every planet. It's... okay, well, floating is a bit fun, if it didn't make his head hurt. He envies his brother's ability to find it fun. He looks back to see Wrecker kicking himself down the hall. Crosshair is out of sight, and even Echo's joined the floating insanity.
May the Force help them.
He thinks he zoned out a little, because then Tech is setting the datapad down only for it so slowly float off the control panel and unstrap himself. "Would you like to get some rest?" Tech asks, eyeing him. He looks worried. Is his discomfort that obvious?
"Yes," Hunter admits with an exhausted sigh. "But how, exactly, would you propose we do that?" He feels sick, actually, but would majorly prefer not to think of what would happen if he threw up right here in space. Ew. He's gonna hope Crosshair's not in the 'fresher.
"Can you tell us what exactly is wrong?" Tech inquires.
"There's no gravity. It's weird," he offers flatly, trying to semi-stand.
They have to float their way to the back, shoving their way along the walls to propel themselves to the back. Trying to hide in a blanket would be very hard. Tempting, though. "What's wrong," Hunter begrudgingly grumbles, once he's made to a pretend sitting on his rack. "Is that the gravity is... weird. Being on the ground is overwhelming sometimes, but here, feeling nothing, it's..."
"I'm sorry," Tech replies quietly, "I wish we could fix this so you could rest."
Overstimulation. Sucks. But he doesn't want Tech to feel bad about it. He's just... grumpy. And grumpy plus pain always means bad.
Hunter tries to maneuver into semi lying down, but at this point, he might as well just sleep mid-air. Wrecker seems to have taken the hint and calmed down a bit, though. Not until Crosshair unhelpfully returns from wherever he disappeared to, dumping open a few thankfully non-lethal crates of supplies to gleefully watch them float. IF he did explosives, Hunter would have to start screaming.
Right before blowing up, anyway. He's not swimming through a minefield.
"You know we'll be picking these all up, right?" Hunter asks, head throbbing.
"They lack forethought," Tech offers, "That is their nature."
Ugh. Not helpful.
Hunter closes his eyes with a groan.
"What's wrong?" Wrecker asks worriedly, floating in their direction and smacking into Tech, who gets shoved into the wall and bounces back. Their helmets are floating wildly around the ship, getting in everyone's way, and right now, Echo's is staring at him. It's unnerving.
"Hunter is overstimulated again," Tech replies briskly. "And presently, he requires rest."
"Ohhh." Wrecker winces. "Sorry."
"Unless the gravity comes back on, I don't think I'll be getting any sleep, anyway," Hunter answers with an eyeroll.
Echo floats nearby, bracing himself on the ceiling. "You can try to get some rest, anyway," he offers, "Right?" His presence actually helps, with the bright flickering of his cybernetics.
"Maybe. If I had something to focus on." It's silly to ask them to stay nearby. He's a sergeant. He shouldn't rely on them like this. But they're all looking at him, and Hunter finally gets it out even if it's almost painful to request. "Can you stay? I – I think it would help."
Wrecker brightens instantly – always one for snuggles. Hunter's praying this isn't a terrible idea, but he already asked, so...
Tech sits beside him, and Hunter feels a little self-conscious about it when Tech pulls his head into his lap, but he lets him. Wrecker scoops Hunter into a hug, clinging to him, while Echo and Crosshair crowd in on his other side.
He actually can sleep floating. Somewhat. Maybe it's not so bad.
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